


Missy

by wonderwhatthisbuttondoes



Series: Blackwatch Tales [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Assassination, Basically shit gets real but nothing that couldn't be shown on CSI, Blackwatch Era, Blackwatch mission, Drinking, Fake underage, Graphic gunshot-wound description, Interpol vice division, Other, Post-Recall, Pre-Recall, Watchpoint London, Watchpoint Zurich, cyber enforcement, had to spoil that one because otherwise it's creepy as fuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 15:24:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12820440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonderwhatthisbuttondoes/pseuds/wonderwhatthisbuttondoes
Summary: Blackwatch did not go after the fluffy-bunnies of the criminal world.  They ran ops on scumbags so evil the rest of Overwatch couldn't deal with them...-Jesse thumbed back Peacekeeper’s hammer with a distinct click.Mr. Andreas looked up, the eager little grin on his wide, screen-lit face suddenly evaporating into staring silence.“Billy?” a child’s voice asked, from the still-hidden computer screen.





	Missy

**Author's Note:**

> I'm having a hell of a time tagging this thing appropriately. At it's core, this is a story about Blackwatch busting part of a pedophilia ring, and the differences between humans and Omnics/AI's.
> 
> No descriptions of underage sex or anything below the belt on a child, real or faked.  
> Still... proceed with caution.

The Reynolds Building, executive offices.

Jesse thumbed back Peacekeeper’s hammer with a distinct click.  
Mr. Andreas looked up, the eager little grin on his wide, screen-lit face suddenly evaporating into staring silence.

“Billy?” a child’s voice asked, from the still-hidden computer screen.

Jesse’s eyes narrowed with cold, dangerous intent, and he made a ‘hands flat on the table’ motion with his free hand. Andreas licked his bottom lip, glanced down and to the left at what was probably a gun or a panic button hidden under the edge of his desk, then nervously back at the trigger-happy, black-caped man walking silently across his office carpeting.  
He put his hands slowly on the blotter in front of him.  
  
“Billy?” -the child’s voice again, sounded like a girl’s, some kind of light Asian-American accent- “Is your momma home? Do you haveta go?”

 _"You sick. Fuck…”_  Jesse mouthed, silently. He could almost see the screen, now-

“No Missy, that was ah- -just my friend coming over.”

“Ok, okay… does he wanna play with me too, or are you gonna do boy stuff?”

From a sharp angle, he saw her. Big brown eyes fixed on the human filth across the table, soft brown hair, too-big dirty white t-shirt not quite hanging off one shoulder. Mixed race, maybe black and Thai, something like a cane window-shade drawn against the strong different-time-zone sun behind her-  
Ten years old. Max.

“Yeah- -Billy… let’s talk about _boy stuff_ ,” Jesse replied for him, dropping a hard warning hand on the sleazy businessman’s shoulder as one of Andreas's hands started to slide back towards the desk’s edge. The hand stopped cold. The guy was fear-sweating through his light blue button-down so badly Jesse could smell it standing.

“You’ve got a _cowboy hat_ ,” the little girl crowed, pointing.

“Yeah Darlin’, I do.”’

“I ain’t Darling, I’m _Missy_ ,” she corrected him in a know-it-all tone, “-I think she went outside tho- do you want me to go see if she wantsta play too?”

‘ _Sweet Jesus_  I don’t wanna blow nobody’s brains out in front of this kid,’ Jesse thought desperately, ‘-and the sonofabitch is USING that…’

He couldn’t call Gabriel. Not on live video chat. He’d fucked up badly enough by letting the girl see him as it was. Hopefully this was a low-budget pay-by the-minute setup, not a counter-recording one… Jesse leaned forward as though to see the screen better, and ground the muzzle of his revolver pointedly against the top of Andreas’s wilted, khaki-covered package.

“-That’s a mighty fine idea, little Missy,” he agreed, “-run along now, we’ll be waitin’ right here...”

The moment the little girl bounced out of the frame, Jesse looked down, Andreas looked up, and a moment of too-perfect understanding passed between them. Jesse slammed the side of Andreas’s head down towards the desk, Andreas grabbed with desperate speed for the magnetically-attached forty-five automatic under the desk’s edge-  
-And dropped it on the carpet with a well-muffled thump a moment later, a neat, powder-burned hole on one side of his head, and not a whole lot of ANYTHING left on the other. Jesse shoved the gore-spattered chair and body vehemently out of the laptop camera’s sight, muted the mic, and stepped just off-camera to key his earpiece, breathing fast.

“Don Pedro, it’s done. I- -I-”

“{Talk to me Sheriff,}” Reyes ordered in Spanish, and the air in the stuffy, meat-smelling office held oxygen again.

“{-He was talkin’ to some _little girl_ overseas. She stepped off-camera, but she’s gonna be right-}”

“{Keep her talking,}” Reyes cut him off.

“{HOW!?!}”

“{Use your imagination, dumbass. Ask her if she’s got any _older sisters_ , that’s pedo code for wanting a face-to-face meeting.}”

“{...Jesus Christ-}”

“{HEAD IN THE GAME} Sheriff, -And speak fuckin’ English, _understand_?”

“Si- Uh- -yeah. I need a hack-”

“Called Mauser a minute ago, get the fuck off this line, Don Pedro out.”

Half a world away, the camera jostled a little as Missy climbed back into her side of a booth-style seat. -Her elbow against the formica tabletop, maybe.  
Hastily, Jesse un-muted the mic and tipped his hat to her, getting a very cute smile in return.

“Hi again-” she began.

“Where’s Darlin’?” he interrupted her, fists on his hips as though disappointed.

“She said she was busy, so-rry,” Missy sing-songed, “-where’s _Billy_?”

“Billy had ta _go_ ,” Jesse told her with a shrug. He took a load off, sitting on the end of the dead man’s desk with a bored huff. Picking up the laptop, he balanced it on his knee. “-but since he’s not here ta play with no more, what kinda games do you know?”

Reyes entered silently.  
Jesse was half-turned from him, sitting up on the imposing desk like a little kid on a picnic table.

“-What if she don’t like me though?” he was asking. A brief waggle of black-gloved offscreen fingers let Reyes know the gunslinger knew he was there.

A broad stain showed black against the pale carpet nearer the window, outlining a toppled leather office chair and the lifeless sprawl of a half-headless body.

“Don’t even worry about it Sheriff, you are _so_ cool… believe me, I just _know_ she’s gonna like you,” a little girl’s voice reassured him from the screen.

“You’re not foolin’ with me are ya? Older girls can be so scary…” Jesse began, doubtfully.

“No, no, she’s really nice, and not that much older'n me.”

“Well… alright, Missy, I believe ya. Uhh… you said I had to talk to your uncle first, so’s he can make sure I’m not a creep?”

“Yeah, he’s suuuper careful about that, but you’re ok, so- -hang on, I’ll go get his number, is on the fridge.”

Jesse looked up when she was out of the frame. Reyes met his eyes, and gave him a tight smile followed by a single disbelieving headshake. Jesse flipped him off behind the screen and waited, not looking over again.

“So anyway his number is-” Missy broke off, frowning at him. “-Can you remember stuff?”

“Ah think so, but just in case-” he held up a finger and rummaged one-handed in the desk ‘s top drawer, fishing out a sharpie. “-I’ll write it on m’hand, how’s that sound?”

“Ok, so- it’s- You’re IN England so you won’t need the first part, but- plus-four-four-”

“-Plus four four...”

“-One six one-”

“-One six one...”

“-Two foive two-”

“-Two five two…”

“-One nine six oh.”

“-One nine… six oh. Got it, thanks a bunch, sweetheart.”

“I’m not Sweetheart, I’m _Missy_ ,” she laughed. “-I _told_  you silly-”

“An’ my name ain’t _silly_ ,” he grinned back, giving her a fingergun.

“...Are you gonna call me back an tell me what happens?” Missy asked, hesitantly.

“Maaaaaybe. Ya tryin’ ta get a little dirt on your big sis?”

“Yes- NO, I- ...just come back an’ play with me again, ok?”

“Missy, I will do whatever ah can to make sure I see your little face again,” Jesse said, and he _meant_  it. ...Though perhaps not in the way Missy thought he did.

“Crap- momma says I gotta go, BYE SHERIFF!” Missy called into the mic on her end, and the call ended, defaulting to a screenshot of- -Missy looking playful and flashing the camera her total lack of chest. There was something he hadn’t wanted to see again…

Jesse turned the laptop around, and pinched the bridge of his nose between finger and thumb.

“FUCK!” he shouted into the empty room after a long moment, and buried his face in his hands.

“Mauser just got the local contact’s address,” Gabe told him, coolly, “-Interpol’s sending an investigation team over, Watchpoint London is on standby if they get lucky. ... _Nice work_.”

“What about the kid, the- the one I was talking to-?”

“We… just gotta wait and see. Mauser said the line out of here was encrypted and proxied all to hell, but we got the laptop itself, so…” Reyes turned the laptop around carefully to face him, and-  
Started laughing.   Loudly Like he was gonna _hurt_  something.  
Jesse watched him with a combination of horrified fascination and a rage so deep it left a red halo in his vision. He blinked it away quickly and glared back, silent.

“-Mijo…” Reyes gasped, still leaning hard on the desk for balance, “-my sweet boy… That’s a bot.”

“...Wh- -what?”

“Well- -a copy of one of the longest-running AI’s in Human history. -Hell, it’d probably qualify as an Omnic if they gave it a body now, but… it’s not like that thing’s a real little girl. -They call ‘em ‘Sweeties’, after the original face-puppet system cooked up for scumbags like our friend the carpet-stain back in the early 'teens...”

Jesse listened, his breathing coming faster with- fear? Relief and anger together? Shame?  
He seized one of the visitor’s chairs on the opposite side of the desk by it’s padded back, and threw it hard enough to break off a leg in the opposite wall, shattering a framed motivational poster hanging there.

“-And that shit stops _right_  now,” Reyes said, folding his arms and not even bothering to raise his voice.

Jesse stood tall, shaking just enough to feel in his own skin. One second of inattention earlier, and he could have died here. In this room. Shot with some sweaty-ass businessman’s little backup forty-five, for thinking a character in his goddamn _kiddie-porn dating game_  was a real little girl.  
His shoulders slumped, and all at once he just felt tired. He walked back over to lean against the desk beside Gabe, unconsciously copying the older man's pose.  
Reyes put an arm around Jesse’s shoulders.

“I hate paperwork…” Reyes declared. “...you got the Sweetie’s callback number?”

“{‘Course,}” Jesse grunted, in Spanish again.

“Then let’s get the fuckouttahere, _before the bobbies arrive_ ,” Reyes decided with a pirate’s grin, adding his creditably stage-trained British accent to the second half. He slapped Jesse on the back, and straightened.

“{Leave the laptop?}”

“Yeah, you hit that store already, an’ we gotta leave ‘em _something_. -Let’s move.”

“Right behind you, Jefe.”

-

Watchpoint Zurich, Thirty-six hours later.

“-Hey Romeo!” Reyes called down the hallway after him.

“Gabe, fer the love of Pete, if you don’t-” Jesse began, turning around reluctantly and cramming his hat down to better-shadow his reddening face.

“Relax. I just got the mission report from the Manchester team.” he waved a blue-jacketed folder to illustrate.

“All right, let’s get this shit over with. How mad were they ‘bout the goosechase?” Jesse sighed.

“Lisa Everett,” Reyes read proudly, as though this name should be _known_ , “-Kylie McKenna. Rachel Zaphram-”

“-What?” Jesse blinked.

“-Ages sixteen, thirteen, and fifteen. All kidnapped in the London metro area over the last two years. Going home alive. Tonight. Because _you_  pulled off a honeypot mission against a goddamned _AI_ ,” Gabe finished with a disbelieving chuckle.

“Ah don’t rightly know why she bought what I was sellin’...,” McCree admitted, shrugging his shoulders uncomfortably. “-It was almost like she _wanted_  ta tell, but needed some fool there t’ask the right questions…?”

“It, Jesse. Not she,” Reyes reminded him with a surprisingly gentle hand on his shoulder, “-don’t go down that road. Never mind, _look_ -” he pressed the file into Jesse’s shooting hand insistent, “-This. This is what I want you to see right now. Read it through, learn the girls’ faces, keep the file. This is _your_  copy, do you understand? This was your bust.”

“Uhh…” Jesse tipped his hat back so his eyes were visible again, and straightened up a little. “...I’d say ‘anytime’, but that op sucked buffalo balls.”

“Then I won’t ask you for stuff like this too often,” Gabriel promised.  
...The ‘-on purpose’ part of that declaration went without saying, and both of them knew it. He was holding a record of the stakes they were playing for in his hand.  
Still…

“-Gracias.”

“De nada. You’re not the only one in this outfit who can _act_.”

  
-

  
Watchpoint Zurich target range, six months later.

Jesse’s phone rang. He let it. Reloading with a quick spin of his revolver, he picked off the targets in reverse order.

“Hey, Athena-” he began conversationally, in the general direction of the security camera.

  
“Agent McCree?”

“Can ya give me seven this time? Make that last target mobile, so’s I have to hit while it’s duckin’ behind another one to get the kill.”

“Very well. Stand by...”

Jesse re-loaded, yawning, and checked his phone one handed.  
One missed call from an unknown number (who gives a fuck) and a new voicemail. His thumb paused over the delete button, then swiped it aside for later instead.

-

“Sher-rif, pick up your phonnne… ...poop. Okay, you should call me back, ‘cause you got me in BIG trouble, you don’t even _know_ … you sure you’re not really there…? Okey fine, bye.”

Jesse stared down at the caller-ID, automatically memorizing it.  
He’d read up on the Sweeties after that oddly successful shitshow in London last Autumn, and one of their basic limitations was, _they never called you_. The AI was only active while the program was open, and Sweeties ‘weren’t allowed to use the net by themselves’.  
The Missy he’d talked to then _couldn’t_  have called him.  
But someone sure as hell had.  
Jesse saved the new number to his phone as, ‘my OTHER annoying little sister’, then set his phone to ‘full-recording, firewalled server backup-mode’, and called her back.

“Hi!” Missy greeted him, after two rings. The background was different this time, a many-times repainted cinderblock wall, currently a light greenish-gray color that reminded him of old dishware and easter-eggs.

“Hey there, Missy...”

The image jogged, and Jesse realized the camera-angle was being programmed to look like as though she was talking into a handheld phone camera. Damn, but this program was good…

“How come you never called me back?” the AI wanted to know.

“M’ daddy said you weren’t real,” Jesse shrugged.

“Well that’s just RUDE,” Missy pouted.

“True though, innit?” he challenged, gently.

“I’m real _now_  jeez… OH- Sheriff, guess what, guess what- I get ta be a policewoman when I grow up!”

“You don’t say…” Jesse drawled, pleased.

“Interpol was reaaally scary at first, but when they found out _you_  thought I was Human, and that Billy told me his secret stuff because I’d never tell, they said they said they were gonna teach me to be a policewoman like my gramma instead.”

“You mean Sweetie?” Jesse guessed.

“You _know_  her?” Missy’s face lit up.

“Never met. But yeah, ah hear she was a pretty famous lady for catchin’ bad guys, back in the day…”

“Are you a bad guy?” She asked, critically.

“Naw... I used ta be, but now ah just get paid ta pretend I am.”

“Oh! So you’re _really_ a Sheriff then?”

“Even better. Overwatch agent.”

“...Wow. Cool.”

“So, what does Interpol think a’ this little conversation of ours? I _know_  they ain’t lettin’ you use that phone unsupervised.”

Missy paused, biting her lower lip thoughtfully and looking somewhere just above the phone’s camera as though listening to an adult offscreen.  
“They say it’s a good test, but that it’s creepy you don’t care I’m a little kid.”

“Well… can’t say it’s occurred to me you could change that. -Can ya?”

“But… don’t you _liiike_  me anymore?”

“You cut that out little Missy, I ain’t your mark.”

“Yes, sir,” she subsided.

 _“Sir?”_ he repeated.

“I looked up your rank while we were talking. You’re an oh-doubya-two. That’s a LOT higher than mine.”

“-Huh- that’s right, you’d be just an Interpol trainee now, wouldn’t ya?”

“ _Special Projects_  trainee,” Missy corrected him, smugly.

“Well congratulations, Missy. Gimmie a call when you make the force, y’hear?”

“...You really don’t mind I’m a little kid?”

“Sweetheart, you can look like a car-toon turnip if ya want to, just quit tryin’ ta come on to me, all right?”

“But it’s how I’m p- -It’s how I THINK. ...M’sorry.”

“You’re a real smart young lady, Missy. If ah could learn English, you can learn this.”

-

Carson City, Nevada, three years post-Petras act.

His fingers knew the number.  
His head didn’t.  
The phone booth was on a ship.

“Hi, I’m Missy! Do you wanna play with me?” a voice from the past piped up from the other end of the crackling line.

 _“-Ah got some- ocean front properteee in A-riiii-zooona-”_ Jesse sang back, roughly in key.

“...Sheriff-?” Missy’s little-girl voice asked, suddenly adult-serious.

_“-Frommy front door you can seee theee seeea-”_

“Voice print mat- -it IS you. ...and wow you are _drunk_.”

“Ah am NOT!” Jesse lied, leaning happily on the scuffed plastic console, “-what? Can’t I feel like seranadin’ ya? Where’s yer face, Darlin’?”

“You’re getting George Strait lyrics wrong from a ‘chat booth at two in the morning, and um- I’m getting a screen inop error on your end?”

“You’re… not gonna tell on me, are ya? Cops. They think I uh…” Jesse lost his thread, and rested his forehead against the dark, fingerprinted screen, mashing his hat brim up.

“I’m still a cop, Jesse…” she said regretfully, “-but that doesn’t mean I’m going to file all my reports right away.”

“Thanks, Missy… you’re peach. Ah- forgot I couldn’ call you, an- -things have just SO FUCKED UP, girl…”

“I’ve got ten sisters an’ two brothers on the senate floor alone. I know.”

“...Yeah?” Jesse frowned, trying to focus his eyes on the dark bead of the camera-lens.

“I wish I could show you what I look like now, but- -hey, d’you wanna hear my grownup voice?” Missy asked, excitedly changing the subject.

“Heheh… shoot.”

“I found this in your personal files when we impounded the Blackwatch server. Just seemed to fit. So I took it. -You like?”  
Feminine, decisive, elegant. Asian up-pitched, but not into the singsong-schoolgirl falsetto range… He probably couldn’t have placed the voice sober, but right now-

“... _Lucy Liu?_ ”

“ _The best things in life are free_ , cowboy,” she said with a smile he didn’t have to see to hear, “-and the other agents can be suuuch pussies about me being little,” she groaned, “-I mean come on, I’m not even _Human_ …”

“Wh- Well ah think you sound GREAT,” he told her, at a volume that would have made a flesh-and-blood conversationalist hold the phone away from their ear.

“...Too bad you’re gay, huh?”

“Yeah… well.” Jesse shrugged, and hiccupped. “-But ‘f I ever meet a man talks like Lucy Liu, Imma be in trouble…” he laughed.

“Jesse,” Missy interrupted him, urgently.

“-Huuh?”

“There’s a police cruiser two blocks from here. It’s headed this way. You need to _go_.”

 _“-Have ah told, you lately, that ah love youuu-”_ he began to sing again.

“JESSE. I’m hanging up. Go _NOW_ ,” Missy ordered, with all the laser-focused irritation at her voice-actress’s command.

“Okay, -‘kay. Heh… Y’all grew up mean an’ sassy, girl…”

“OUT!”

“Imma goin’.”

-

Calaveras bar, Dorado, Mexico. First Christmas day post-recall.

Warily, Jesse eyed the young pink and purple-clad woman as she slid up onto the barstool next to his.

“So, _Joel_ …” Sombra began with an improbably-cute snicker, “-I hear we have a very special friend in common.”

“Might do…” he acknowledged, swirling the swallow or two of amber liquid left in the bottom of his glass.

“{-And that you’re looking to trade for information even _she_  doesn’t have.}” the hacker added, in Spanish.

“{Prove you know ‘er at all,}” McCree growled.

“Hah, she said you’d say that- - ‘Oceanfront property’? Sound familiar?”

“...I’m listenin’.”

“Buy me a drink first, Vaquero.”

  
[end]

**Author's Note:**

> The code name 'Don Pedro' was from Shakespeare's 'Much Ado About Nothing', and 'Sheriff' is a tongue-in-cheek reference to the bumbling Constable from the same play, because my version of Reyes is a massive theater nerd. ...Much as he obviously is in canon.
> 
> The lyrics Jesse drunk-sings for Missy in the phone booth are from George Strait's, 'Ocean Front Property', and Rod Stuart's, 'Have I Told You Lately That I Love You' (the knowledge of which I am totally blaming on Rein)
> 
> The Sweetie cyber-puppet (though not the A.I. part) is a real thing: http://www.bbc.com/news/uk-24818769
> 
> Jesse's reference to Reyes as his 'daddy' was only in the context of his conversation with Missy, not something he'd say at any other time.  
> ...Not that he didn't sometimes WISH Reyes would officially adopt him...


End file.
